It is not unusual for college undergraduates to poke extravagant fun at the faculty in college publications. But the "Confidential Guide to the Curriculum" in yesterday's Harvard CRIMSON is not a joke. True, there are rather snappy lines in it here and there, but the series of studies are intensively in earnest. The editors of the CRIMSON have, between them, taken most of the courses offered in the catalogue. All of these young men have been asked repeatedly by the upperclassmen for the "low down" on this or that course. Can the teachers teach? Does the student gain a fair intellectual return for the required expenditure of time? Is there an element of chance in the course concerning which the printed announcement gives no hint?

One after another, 40 courses are treated by those who have sat in them. You learn that it is possible to take it easy in Music 3 without being bored; that Philosophy A is a bewilderment to those not philosophic by nature; that Government 1 is profitable, unless it is spoiled by an incompetent assistant. Of certain professors there is the highest praise, while others are revealed as belonging to the class that cannot stimulate the average undergraduate.

Naturally this frank discussion of who's who and what's what at Harvard is primarily an affair of that institution, but the University is to be congratulated on having among its undergraduates those who are disposed to make clear charts for the seeker after knowledge. . . .

. . . For the most part the paid instructors have held matters in their own hands, while the paying patrons have taken what they happened to get and asked few questions. The new disposition of the students to look behind the faculty desks is a sign of a growing keenness in education. . . . The first colleges were bands of students, seeking eagerly, telling the teachers what they wanted, and demanding it. The college of the future, judging by present tendencies, will be decidedly cooperative, with the students sharing the control.